2009
by Akylae
Summary: What happened between the optimistic JLU finale and the gloomy BB pilot? Title says it all. Suspense, angst, tragedy, drama, romance, action... Series. Please review. Enjoy.
1. More Bad News

Standard disclaimers apply. Made for practice, not profit.

_Something happened to you, and it wasn't just that you got old_

_Terry Mcginnis, Batman Beyond pilot "Rebirth" _

**2009**

**More Bad News **

_**Sunday, September 20th, 09:20**_

Bruce moaned awake at the sound of the intercom's broadcast ring.

­­_Alfred will get -_

A memory resurfaced as awareness returned. Bruce sighed dejected. Rolling over, he sat up rubbing sleep from his eyes. As he turned the bedroom TV on via remote, the live feed from the gate camera appeared on screen.

His brow frowned in confusion. _Talia? On foot? What's going-?_

Wayne's shoulders slump. He didn't really care, and he would find out soon enough. With a punch on the intercom, he opened the door, watching the brunette start her trek to the manor. Bruce sat on the bed and considered changing into decent clothes, but gave up on the idea. Instead he just shrugged a midnight blue robe over the scarred, topless form, grateful of his preference of dark colors.

Knotting the sash, he walked out into the hall. His adopted sons stepped out of their respective rooms, watching their surrogate father sleepily descend the large stairs. No sooner than he reached the front entrance, the doorbell rang.

_Too fast. She ran uphill._ His lips pressed in a thigh line. _Something 's wrong._

Steeling himself for whatever may come, Bruce unlocked the door. Talia stormed inside the moment it swung open, a panicked expression on her face.

"Father 's gone mad." She mumbled, pacing around the lobby.

_You don't say?_ His mind was sarcastic, but his face was dead serious.

"He's totally insane this time." Talia continued. "He's talking about Armageddon and martyrdom and…" She trailed off. "He's going to kill everyone. Even his followers, even himself, even-" Her voice caught. Hesitantly she turned to meet his eyes. "…us."

He swallowed. _Ras is a megalomaniac with a messianic complex, but if he 's planning to kill his successors… _Bruce shoved his hands in the robe's pockets in a rare gesture of tension. "Plan?"

Talia looked away again. "He's stolen a sample of hemorrhagic smallpox from the CDC."

"I would have known-"

"You wouldn't." She cut him off. "There was no break-in. He had an insider. The man just swapped samples with harmless chickenpox cultures. The virus is all but forgotten, nobody would notice it's missing until the pandemic."

Wayne's mind scampered for facts on the disease. What he recalled was vague but terrifying.

_Huge mortality rate. Virtually exterminated for three decades. Vaccination stopped. Everyone under thirty is not immune._

Bruce looked up at his sons and felt his gut lurch. ­_No._ He grew determined. _I'm not loosing you too._

"He's going to release them at Kennedy airport sometime this week." Talia added.

"Spread it worldwide." Bruce finished the madman's plan, already calculating the outcome.

_Several hundred simultaneous outbreaks within one week. One third of humanity dead within few months. Socio-economic breakdown that will take years to recover from. One half in rioting. High probability of war, civil or international. Two thirds to three quarters. Huge plunge in birthrates over the next decades. Shit." _

With one hand he massaged the temples. "Where is it now?"

"The old, closed clinic in Suicide Slum that will be brought down next Friday." She answered. "Father is looking for me, he'll kill me for running away. He sees it as betrayal."

"I will transport you directly to the shelter." Bruce strode into the study with fisted hands and a troubled Talia on his heels. "Nobody will find you before he's taken care of." He opened the laptop and logged on. "The shelter is an inconspicuous house in a remote village the middle of nowhere. There's a month's worth of necessities there. First neighbors are a mile away and you probably don't speak the language, so don't leave the house. You will be transported back when the situation is over." His fingers flew over the keyboard with a rapid fire of taps.

"I won't stay with you?" She was disappointed, frightened and confused at once.

"No." He answered with unwavering cold and stepped up to her. "Too late for that."

Talia surprised him with a passionate kiss which he didn't return. "Goodbye, beloved." She whispered before vanishing in a shimmer.

Bruce pulled a small device from the robe pocket and held it to his face. "**Did you get everything, Jonn?**" He switched into Bat mode.

"Your predictions included." The manhunter replied over the comm. link. "Calling the meeting immediately."

"**Have Waller on-line, also. We'll need to work with the CDC.**"

"Will you be coming?"

Bruce considered the idea. "**Audio link.**" He opted instead.

"I'll call you back when everyone reports in."

"**Understood.**" He ended the call.

Pocketing the communicator, Bruce dragged himself to the kitchen where Tim and Dick were making breakfast.

The view on the manor grounds was magnificent. Morning mist evaporated under the warm rays of Indian summer. The garden was adorned in rich, warm hues and bright counter-light. But the beauty of the sight was lost on a tired and sullen Bruce.

Seated at the counter, he found a steaming mug of black coffee appear in front of him. The unassuming gesture of care shook him to the core. Subconsciously, Wayne's eyes sought the old butler's room. Seeing a glimpse of it through the door left ajar, he felt lured. Mug in hand, he noiselessly pushed the door open.

Bruce noticed for the first time just how small the room was, and felt a dull ache of guilt. He sat on the single chair in the corner and looked about, rolling the mug between his hands. Every item in the room reflected its former occupant's personality.

_Have to clear the room._ He sipped the scolding beverage. _Or lock it up and loose the key._

A neatly folded document by the night lamp caught Wayne's attention. Picking it up, Bruce stared at the Do Not Resuscitate notice. Events form a few days back replayed form memory.

* * *

_A grip, firmer than expected, kept Bruce at Alfred's bedside._

"_Bruce-" the old man whispered._

_Wayne felt a lump form in his throat after hearing Alfred call him by his name for the first time in decades, _

"…_don't." He continued. "You don't have to save me. I've had a long life. A good life." Alfred smiled faintly over the gathered family and received sad smiles in return. "Don't make me an undead." He implored. "Let me go with grace."  
_

"_I can't-"_

"_I relieve you of the duty, son." Alfred cut him off._

_Bruce bit his lip. "I… You..." The words wouldn't come out._

"_I know." Alfred squeezed the younger man's hand. "Son, be happy."_

* * *

The device bleeped. 

Picking himself up, Bruce left the room. "I'll be in the study." He told the two younger men without looking at either of them. "Tell the Gordons to come by tomorrow."

"No rest for the wicked, huh?" Dick offered sympathetically.

"No fair." Bruce uttered the childish complaint without emotion.

**…**


	2. Immediate Responce

**Immediate Response**

_**Sunday, September **__**20th, 10:00**_

Wayne closed the study door. "**Batman reporting.**" He spoke in a deep voice. Seating himself in the leather-backed chair, he accessed a one way video conference. Waller's imposing office and the League's high-tech council room appeared side by side. "**Everyone briefed?**"

"Is your informant reliable?" Waller was all business.

"**The panicked delivery was most definitely sincere.**" He replied with a hint of annoyance.

Waller typed in a few commands. "The CDC is informed." She answered after a moments pause. "Emergency procedures are under way: quarantining the clinic, production of vaccine, security checks of the germ bank, staff background checks… You name it - they're doing it. "

"Good." Kent leaned on the table, his voice optimistic. "The sooner we deal with this the better."

"Yeah, but how?" Wally was perplexed. "I mean you can't just punch the buggers." He implored with upwards facing palms.

Stewart shuffled uncomfortably in his seat.

"Laser vision will do." Kent reassured both colleagues.

"**Superman, Jonn and Shayera should inspect the scene. Terran pathogens can't affect aliens nor be transmitted by them.**" The Bat returned the conversation to planning.

"Sounds reasonable." Shayera replied.

"We should take a sample of the virus to see if it was modified."Jonn suggested.

Diana gave a nod of agreement. "Definitely."

"**Also all vaccines and anti-virals you find.**" The Bat added. "**They can be reverse-engineered for mass production.**"

"The CDC-ers will de-con you on the way out and take over the samples." Waller informed.

"**I have a better idea.**" He cut in. "**Beam straight to the old watchtower.****The de-con and lab are up to standards. No risk of accidental contagion in space. If something goes wrong we'll bring the tower down, burn it on re-entry.**"

"It's not destroyed?" Waller frowned.

"**That would be a waste.**" Batman replied. "**The living quarters were disassembled and re-used in the twelve ISS stations. The core is dormant but functional. I can re-activate it in an hour.**"

"All right, go with the Watchtower." Waller conceded, dissatisfaction evident in her delivery.

"And the clinic?" Stewart turned to Ammanda's image on the projection screen, already suspecting the answer.

"Demolition has been moved ahead of schedule." her chilly voice bespoke of a bomb waiting to drop on the building.

"**I'll investigate the case from the informant's end and do a background check on the CDC staff.**"

"Noted." She returned. "Everyone reports their finds ASAP."

A murmur of agreements came in response before they all disconnected.

Passing the great bookcase, Bruce scheduled the day in his mind. _Shower, change, eat... _He grabbed the polished doorknob and paused. _Hope Tim cooks better than Dick. _Once out, the aroma of Chinese take-away invaded his senses. _Like father like sons._ He grinned faintly, climbing back to the master bedroom.

Ever short on time, Bruce doubled his daily activities, using the shower time for meditation. Like the Japanese monks sitting under waterfalls, he stood in the the shower, not-thinking the same. Comfortably warm water washed away the tension as his mind relaxed with the familiar sensations, the dark red of his eyelids and the soft rumble of water.

Bruce stood propped up on the marble sink, watching himself in the large mirror. The bare torso and arms were covered in one too many cuts and bruises for even his liking. _Getting too old for this... _He mentally told the reflection. _Might be time to call Dick back home. _Bruce begrudgingly admitted as he proceeded with the morning routine.

Dressing into the signature black jeans and gray shirt, Wayne made his way downstairs. Tim and Dick could be heard enjoying a good-natured teasing session, which coaxed a half-smile to his face.

How long will you be staying? He asked both and neither men between mouthfulls, pulling his best nonchalant act.

Tim ducked his head. "I'm flying in the evening." He mumbled with a tinge of shame at not mentioning it earlyer. "Got classes tommorow. Final year and all..."

Bruce played a long and nodded, but knew full well the real reason behind Tim's short stay. A short stay with the Joker would revile anyone of this city and its life.

Dick, suspecting the for that question, chose to feel out the situation before giving a clear answer. "Don't know. Want me to stay 'til you adapt the routine?" He offered carefuly, knowing Bruce would never ask nor accept a decrease in responsibility outright.

"Why not." He shruged. "Temporary, right?"

"Temporary." The younger man reassured, but they all knew it wasn't.

After the food was gone and boxes disposed off, Bruce and Dick left for the Cave. Some things were so common within the clan that words were not needed for coordination. The older man took his place at the Crays while the younger one set up his laptop on a small table to his side. Splitting the search in the same implicit manner, Dick looked up the clinic while Bruce handled Talia.

Richard leaned into his chair, starting the search with the clinic itself. One of the transport companies hired to empty the place sounded familiar. A more thorough check revealed connections with Lex, Savage and other such faces. Amoral freelancers obviously. More was done there than packing. Satisfied with initial results, Dick shared them with his partner.

Bruce on the other hand, had less success with his end. He followed the trail of transports from bus to plane to boat to train and more buses, all the way to the Middle East. By the look of it, she was in a lot of hurry, crossing half the world in under twenty four hours. With no stops for eating or sleeping, she was truly scared. But somewhere in Kurdistan the trail ceased, passing from organized transport to ad-hoc camel rides. The money trail was even more nebulous, vanishing almost instantly in a number of bank accounts in some gray-economy banana republics.

As the two were about to report their findings, the alien trio called in.

"We've scoured the clinic." Kent informed in a satisfied tone. "There were no stored spores there, but somebody's been using the clinic's lab recently. Best case scenario - we stopped them before they got the chance to produce weaponized aerosol. Worst case - they knew we were coming and moved it elsewhere."

"**No outgoing activity from the clinic.**" Bruce interjected. "**Found anything useful?**"

"I'm not sure. There were about a dozen test-tubes of two or three distinct substances. Jonn 's testing them now."

"One sample is definitely an Orthoproxyvirus." Jonn cut in from the lab. "Though I'm not sure if it's Vaccinia or Variola."

"When will you know?" Waller's voice displayed the anxiety they all shared.

"The DNA sequencing may take several hours." Jonn quelled their hopes of a quick answer.

"It should be Vaccinia." Waller said. "According to the CDC both the Variola major and minor samples are accounted for and there was no sign of compromised security."

"**And the employees?**"

"All staff with acces to maximum security areas have repeatedly passed detailed psycological screening." She assured.

_Than it should still be there._ The bat silently agreed. _But is that the good or bad alternative?_

"Are you sure your contact is reliable, Batman." Waller voiced his thoughts.

"**It did not deceived me.**" The Bat stood with the earlier assessment. "**It may have been misinformed.**" He admitted. "_I also doubt my doubt, but right now that's the last thing you need to know. _"**The clinic?**"

"Demolished presently." Came Waller's brief reply.

"**We should check **_**all**_** major airports.**"

"Agreed."

"I'll organize the members." Kent volunteered for the thankless duty. "Each member will work on one state."

"Have the local enforcers assist you." Waller subtly reminded of the mandatory human involvement.

"**Nightwing and I will contact Commissioner Montoya.**" The Bat informed before abruptly terminating the link. He could almost see her frown at the special treatment he got from the local police.


	3. Input Error

**Input Error  
**

_**Sunday, September 20th, **__**19:05**_

"That was the last section." Nightwing strode from the lobby of Gotham Airport.

Even in the all-glass waiting room, bathed in the bright setting sun, the bat sought the darkest nook available to brood. "And you found nothing." He muttered to himself, feeling frustration build.

_I should be relived. Why dose this feel wrong?_

For her part, Montoya indulged in a half-smile. "Comissioner Montoya of GCPD reporting." She spoke into the cell-phone. "Gotham airport clear."

"We've missed something." The dark knight grated from his corner.

"We checked every crack of this place." His former protégé insisted.

"Big picture." He replied. "Have to check some things at the Tower."

"Patrol?" Nightwing quirked a brow.

The bat nodded briskly.

"I'll grab some stuff from Bludhaven." The younger man strode for the parking lot. "Be back by midnight."

"Batmant to Metrotower," He spoke into the ear-piece. "Immediate transport."

_**22:10**_

The monitor womb resembled a planetarium, except its projection was inverted. Not one of the starry sky, but an amalgam of numerous satellite views of earth's surface. In the central spot, surrounded by a circle of touch-screen terminals, sat the dark knight. As most observations were automated, he made use of the uneventful graveyard shift to continue the hunt.

A short, faint gust of air told of doors being opened behind him. The lack of footsteps denoted an aerial leaguer. A mental run-down of the duty roster narrowed the list of suspects to one person.

"Hello, princess." He greeted without turning.

Her hands sought his shoulders, kneading away the knots of tension. Diana peered over his shoulder to the numerous screens. _Any luck?_

_No._ He leaned into the attentive care with an inward sigh of exasperation. "Ra's is virtually impossible to find by way of technology. Though he keeps up with the times, he prefers traditional means."

"And the up-close-and-personal method?"

"He's been dormant for ten years." Bruce began without promise. "I've tried to keep an eye on him, but with all the recent near apocalypses… All my leads are cold. It would take months to find someone who knows him personally." He paused. "And you know how reliable my latest one was." Bruce answered in that low tone that bespoke of guilt.

"Oh no you don't." She spun the chair around. With arms gripping either side of the chair back, Diana hovered threateningly in his eye level. "First - I've seen your body-language assessment and trust the contact didn't intentionally deceive. Second - You did keep an eye on him and would have continued if not for more urgent matters. And third - if you gave him more attention than he was due, those other issues would have killed us all." She let her voice rise a little before falling to a comforting tone. "Priorities are priorities."

_Touché._ He thought, but said: "Doesn't change the fact I keep hitting walls wherever I turn."

In a moment of thought, Diana absently stared through his chest. "This government cooperation could go both ways." She looked up again. "If Ra's is this dangerous someone from the CIA must have kept an eye on him."

_I knew there was a reason I like you._ Bruce smiled. "And if that someone isn't a five-men team, the director should be fired." His attempts to turn around were met with strong resistance.

"I'm sure any info they have on him will still be there shortly." Diana slowly landed on his lap. "A break from work will clear your head." She explained in an octave deeper voice.

"_Here? Now?"_ His eyebrows rose in question.

Diana pulled his cowl off without protest. "It's the one place on Earth that can't be monitored."

A sly grin tugged at Wayne's lips as he clasped her slender waist. "Computer… lock up monitor womb… level zero." He ordered between short kisses.

The triple beep of founder's general broadcast interrupted their necking. Bruce swung his head back and groaned annoyed. Diana dipped her own down, chuckling at him.

"DNA analysis complete." Jonn informed. "The virus is harmless."

Bruce felt the nasty gut feeling return. "Superman, what's the status of the airports?"

"All teams reported clear, why?"

Bruce grit his teeth. "Meeting. Now." He sat straight and Diana floated off.

Pulling the cowl back on he strode out in a brisk pace.

"What's the matter?" She hovered to his side.

"**Unproven.**" The Bat evaded presenting another unfounded scenario.

Diana didn't let that stop her. "I'd take your hunch over any analysis."

"**We're here.**" He tipped the head at the council door, postponing the answer until the others gather.

Doors slid opened to the large room dominated by a round table and a view of a storm-front crossing the Atlantic.

The couple took their respective seats under the window, leaving one chair between them vacant. Superman arrived first, taking the seat directly opposite the door, befitting the first among equals, flanked by the Diana to his right and Wayne to his left. The Big Three watched in patient silence as the rest of the founders gathered. Stewart and Holl arrived together, their places side by side nearest the door. Jonn took his place besides the Dark knight, loner to loner, while Flash ran in last and opposite the quiet Martian.

"What's this about, Bats?" Wally was the one to voice everyone's thoughts.

Batman stared at the center of the table, fists clenched. "**Diversion.**"

The room fell silent.

Diana leaned on the table. "If the warning was legitimate and we succeeded, there is nothing for us to do until you can prove it or disprove it." She spoke to Batman. "If this was a diversion, there's also nothing we can do until you find out what the real plan is."

_You're amazing. _The Bat's rigid stance melted to calm, as he regarded fondly, eyes safe behind dead-cold lenses.

Five heads bobbed in agreement with her plan.

While the others took her smile for victorious taunting, Wayne knew better, but made no outward show of it. "**Fine.**" The Bat faked a begrudging agreement. As a non-meta, attitude was all he had.

"That settles it." Superman rose and thus concluded their meeting.

Bruce waited for the room to empty before turning to Diana.

"I know." She stood up and walked to him, fingers grazing his half-day stubble. "Take care."

…


	4. Darker Nights

**Darker Nights**

_**Monday, September 21st, **_**02:35**

Cathedral bell towers pierced the clouded sky. Two gargoyles kneeled on the front ledge at their base, standing watch over the sinners of East end. One dark figure pulled the cape tighter against the cold wind.

"Go home." Suggested the other statue.

The caped figure neither moved nor spoke.

"You haven't made a sound all night and you're not trying to prove you still have the fight it in you." Nightwing continued. "You haven't had an hour of uninterrupted sleep since-" He swallowed. "My room is next to yours, Bruce, I've heard the noise." He didn't say 'cries', Wayne didn't need to feel humiliated right then. "I'm surprised you function at all."

Bruce looked away. "I'm not quitting." He whispered before jumping into the shadow depth.

Not long into his patrol, a whimpery plea drew his attention to a seedy alley. A local pimp was trying to get more than protection money from one of Catwoman's charges.

The Bat lunged himself at the man, knocking him to the floor. But when he got up the familiar shift of perception didn't happen, he wasn't focused on the now. The blows kept coming and though he could see them, there was nothing the dark knight could do about them.

Reflexively he pulled out an electric 'rang, blocking a punch that would have been his last and shocking the attacker to unconsciousness in the process.

_Too close._

The Bat locked eyes with the all too young girl. "Catwoman still out of town?"

She nodded.

_Damn it, Selina, where are you?_

"There's a free clinic in the Narrows run by Dr Tompkins. She'll have the Wayne Foundation take care of your situation."

"Leslie knows Wayne?" The girl was critical of the news. "Guess the guy aint a _total _jerk."

"You'd be surprised." The dark knight replied while cuffing the pimp. "You can press charges but a vigilante testimony is void." He said apologetically.

She returned his gaze with a suddenly determined stare. "A girl and a minor against an adult man with a record. I'll jail the bastard."

Two exchanged nods of agreement, a defiance in face of hopelessness only the most jaded of Gothamites understood. Parting without goodbye, the Bat called it a night. He knew the city would be the end of him, but not just yet.

…


	5. Every Cloud

**Every Cloud**

_**Monday, September 21st, 11:40**_

Diana, casually dressed in jeans and shirt, walked up the stairs of Wayne manor with a big mug, leaving a strong coffee aroma in her wake. The bedroom door swung open and she moved towards Wayne's prone, sleeping form. Pushing the cover aside, Diana sat beside him, carefully peeking under the oversized, drab gray tee shirt. She grinned a bit at his endearing simplicity, but bit her lip upon seeing the black and blue blotches over his sides and back.

His early return and unusually deep sleep were explained in one go. Knowing complaining would be pointless, Diana was grateful Bruce had the brains to bail out in time. With two fingers she reached for the base of his deltoids, rubbing lightly.

Easing to wakefulness with a languid smile, Bruce mumbled into the pillow. "Caffeine?"

"Right here." She held up a mug even tough he kept his eyes closed.

Sitting up, Bruce noticed the time.

"I couldn't wake you if I wanted to." Diana anticipated the question. "Half an hour of alarm ringing couldn't. Dose this mean the dreams are over?"

"For now." He downed the extra-strong drink the in one long go. "League?"

"The usual." Diana shrugged. "Flash is feeling under the weather - "

Wayne's brow's shot up in concern.

"In his words: The thing we fear is supposed to give you nasty zits not a runny nose." She held up a finger. "I've told him to go see Jonn - its just common cold."

Bruce clasped her shoulder. "You?"

"Shift starts at two. Lunch at the tower?"

Shoulders slumped, he shook his head regretfully, "CIA."

"Done with." Diana grinned proudly. "I've asked Waller to mail the data to Metrotower. Shayera is checking it right now. She' was an inspector, right?"

"Legata." Bruce nodded.

"The preliminary will be ready when you finish the board meeting."

"Mess hall chow it is." He pecked a kiss on Daian's ear, making her shy away in a giggle.

After pointing at the clock and the bathroom, she walked out, leaving Bruce to prepare for work.

…


	6. Foreshadowed

**Foreshadowed**

_**Monday, September 21st, 12:55**_

That Bruce Wayne waltzed through Wayne Tower with a huge smile plastered on his face was no surprise. That the act didn't stop the moment he stepped into Lucius' office was very surprising.

"Somebody had a good morning." The thoroughly white-haired man noticed with good cheer.

Bruce slouched in the comfy guest chair. "I slept ten hours and Diana woke me up."

"That would make any man's day." Fox grinned.

"So…" Bruce sobered. "Last week on the job."

Fox nodded, leaned back into his chair. "The list of proposed successors is on your desk."

"I already have my favourites." Bruce replied mysteriously and stood up. "It's time."

The two men walked the short distance to the conference room and ten white collars of either gender stood to attention at their arrival. Exchanging greetings, the men and women took their seats.

Bruce slipped into his role of quiet, semi-interested observer while Fox lead the meeting.

"This being my last weekly meeting, I want everything ready for the next trimester." The would be pensioner began. "Projects in final stages must be finished by the end of the month to make deliveries. Projects being negotiated must be signed so production can begin. No strings will be left dangling when I leave – understood?"

The board members confirmed with serious faces, none taking him lightly.

"Good." He opened a portfolio. "We'll start with Wayne Space. Mrs Diaz?"

"Two successful deals to report and made one delivery." A graceful Latino woman in early prime replied confidently. "Reverse-engineering of the Thanagarian in-star-system drive ensured contracts with NASA and ESA. The Ares V probe has passed its one month test period. Final payment is scheduled for next week."

Bruce hid a smile behind his fisted hand. As the board suspected, he was biased toward Diaz, but not for the reasons they assumed. Her beauty had nothing to do with it, and he certainly didn't make unprofessional demands of her. Maria was a beneficiary of the Wayne Foundation scholarship program, and whenever one did not waste the opportunity given, Bruce would go out of his way to ensure their success.

"Do you have the readings here?" He asked. "I've been a space enthusiast since a kid."

The file passed several hands before reaching Wayne. Bruce skimmed through the file until a wavy graph caught his attention. The telepathy sensor smuggled onto the vessel as a backup thermal sensor picked up an unnervingly regular pattern. It couldn't be possible, any yet here he was, looking right at it.

"Excellent work." He snuffed the tension out of his voice. "Carry on."

"Thank you, Maria." Fox nodded his pleasure.

Everyone present read the gesture correctly; Diaz was a likely replacement for the old boss.

"Next – Wayne Medical."

A balding middle aged man shuffled some papers. "Due to the new drive form our Space division, NASA scrubbed the stasis pod project. The plan is to adapt the technology for organ transplant."

"Any breakthrough on the antibiotic alternatives?" Fox inquired.

"I've been attempting to acquire phage samples form Kasnian institutes but the officials are stalling." The man replied nervously. "You know who bureaucracies are."

Wayne's eyes flashed momentarily in a bolt of understanding. His fingers fidgeted nervously under the table as he was unable to act on it.

"Mr Wayne, any chance you could use your connections to speed the arrangement." Fox implied Diana's position of ambassador. "Kasnian medicare has seen better days."

"A donation as a tax deduction is always acceptable." Wayne played the greedy businessman cliché.

"That's settled then." Lucius closed another file and looked across the table to a young man with strikingly similar features. "Mr Fox, what do you have for us?" The man addressed his son.

Other directors glanced at their colleague, second youngest in the room. Rumors of nepotism abounded, but so far Lucius junior had given them no justification.

"Wayne Tech R&D is finishing the FutureSoldier and Multi-Vehicle prototypes."

"How much contract grants do you plan to win?"

"Five to ten for each project." Junior replied confidently.

Wayne whistled in surprise, making his employees look uncomfortable at his uncultured behavior. "You'll showing me those toys right now, Fox."

"Sir." Fox senior interrupted. "We have more issues to discuss."

"I'm sure you can address the remaining projects without me." Bruce rose form the head seat. "As for the next chairman…" He gestured at Lucius jr.

For once, none of the directors doubted his decision, save the man in question who appeared not to believe his eyes.

"Mr Fox." Wayne tipped his head to the door, shaking him out of stupor.

As soon as they boarded the elevator, heading for the basement research labs, Wayne held out his hand, requesting the files form Fox. Skimming through the pages, he made several intrigued hums. Fox stayed silent the entire time, trying to wrap his mind around the unexpected if not unwelcome promotion.

"Ingenious." Wayne shut the file before the doors slid open. "So which grants do you plan to compete for?" He walked between rows of assembly tables, to the prominent amour suit on the other end of the long hall.

"Adaptive camouflage and flexible amour for thermal, projectile and electrical protection" Fox tapped the matte black torso. "Sensor array and computer screen in visor." He indicated the full-facial mask. "integrated GPS; remote vehicle control; life-signs monitor and resuscitation equipment-"

Wayne quirked a brow. "De-fib and stuff?"

"And stuff." Fox confirmed. "You could have a heart attack in this thing and live to tell." He looked at it with not a little pride.

"And the Vehicle?"

"Ah yes, the Bat-hicle." He whispered before walking over to a large pile of crates. "Camouflage off."

The crates vanished, revealing a sleek black hovercraft.

"The vehicle includes classical features like voice-command and holo-projectors and some new goodies like being a mobile command center in place of the home base and a three in one propulsion." Fox explained while Wayne walked around the thing, taking in every detail.

"Excellent work." Bruce commented as he passed a hand over the radio-absorbing paint. "But than you had time to practice, disassembling ever birthday toy you got." The man stuck his head into the cockpit.

"Your gifts were much appreciated." Fox ducked his head to hide a shy snicker. "anything else."

"When will they be ready for use?" Bruce looked up.

"Anniversary." Fox replied with gravity.

When they were back at executive level, Wayne turned to his new right-hand man. "There are rumors of a shady new entrepreneur in town, Powers."

"Derek?" Fox frowned. "I've heard about him. Luthor-wannabe."

"Except where Luthor worked to improve his domain, regardless of his methods, this guy cannibalizes everything he touches." Bruce frowned.

"If I didn't know you better, I'd say you are idealizing old rivals." Fox chuckled. "Don't worry Mr. Wayne, I'll keep an eye on him."

…


	7. Whispers in Darkness

**Whispers in Darkness**

_**Monday, September 21st, 13:30**_

Bruce strode to his desk like a man on a mission. Flopping the phone open, he speed-dialed MetroTower.

"**Shayera, Now.**" He barked at whoever was on the other end. A beep later he continued in the same manner. "**He's in Kundistan, isn't he?**"

"How'd you know?"

"**Proximity. Smallpox samples exist because they used to be part of the cold war MAD doctrine – mutually assured destruction.**"

"Wow." She was baffled. "That is a mad doctrine."

"**Indeed.****Given that, there is another CDC Ra's could have robbed - The Russian one.**"

Shayera sighed. "Great, with their lack of funding for, we'll never know-"

"**Doesn't matter.**" He cut her short. "**He and I had a meeting there once. Have Q scout the northern mountain valley for signs of recent large convoy movements. Ra's travels in force.**"

"Q?"

"**This will involve heavy garbage digging.**"

"Is that all?"

"**Switch me over to Jonn**."

A moment later, a deep voice of his telepathic colleague filled the room. "What is it Batman?"

"Take a look at these readings." Bruce typed a few commands, sending some charts to MetroTower.

Long, silent seconds later Jonn spoke up again. "These are from the Mars explorer?"

"Notice anything?"

"Cyclic patterns, at least two."

"The base cycle lasts 24 hours 39 min; the fainter one is a third of that, and the faintest is a little over the base cycle. I'm betting that the slow decline is part of a fourth one, even larger than the base, lasting little under two years Earth time."

"Martian day, moon-tides and year." Jonn answered deadpan, but there was a nervous echo in Wayne's mind.

"Imperium?"

"No." The Manhunter dismissed it. "Nothing like it." His voiced was almost hopeful. "Copper-webs. Massive single cell colonies."

"The base of an ecosystem." Bruce assumed.

A mental affirmation came as a whisper. "Native life."

…


	8. Know Your Enemy

**Know Your Enemy**

_**Monday, September 21st, 15:00**_

The Bat and the Hawk sat on opposite sides of the circle of terminals arranged around the Archive's central databank. Wayne sat laid back in the swivel-chair with arms crossed and one hand idly moving over the exposed chin. His eyes flashed between screens of detailed CIA reports.

Shayera released an exasperated sigh. "The Russian connection is pointless. When the Union fell apart there was so much theft and smuggling and evidence destruction it's impossible to follow any of it."

"**Chaos is good for crime.**" He stated as if giving a lesson.

"That's how you knew where he is." She leaned closer, propped on her terminal. "Because Khundustan is a mess of warring tribes easy to hide in."

"**Actually, it was another medical issue with another former Soviet county.**" Wayne admitted. "**When did Ra's visit Magreb?**" He abruptly changed subject.

Shayera clicked open a file. "Little under half a year ago."

"**Same time Wayne Enterprise had trouble acquiring fuel for their cargo ships from West African companies.**"

"Didn't Superman go there a few times to deal with those bands that kidnapped oil company employees?" Her head peeked above the screen. "Think Ra's is supporting them? Expanding business in the Sub-Saharan region?"

"**He's already sabotaging oil rigs in Middle East in order to boost prices, forcing a slowing down of the greenhouse effect.**" He studied the pattern of red dots on a map. "**Kidnapping is an indirect, more subtle method.**"

"Not to mention less traceable." She frowned at her files, as if to intimidate them into giving her some answers. "So he wants to wipe out humanity to save Earth, huh?"

The dark knight shook his head "**He wants humanity to live in a utopia, impossible given current population and technology.**"

"And instead of advancing technology he's dealing with the population." She let out a wistful huff.

"**Never this extremely**." He muttered. "**A thousand year old cult leader doesn't turn apocalyptically zealous unless suffering side effects of the Lazarus pit.**" He clicked open a file on the Lazarus substance: from first mythical tales to the latest pharmacological developments.

"So when did he take a dive last time?"

Wayne propped his chin on steepled hands, tapping the upper lip. "**A three second full immersion takes approximately ten percent off a person's biological age. He goes to Petra once every five years like clockwork.**" The bat slumped back in the seat. "**Latest one would have been three months ago.**"

"Don't think so." She held up a finger. "The Assassin's League fought Darkside's forces in Kairo. Immediately after the parademon's withdrawal a small contingent made way to Giza in record time." She clicked between files, appropriate paragraphs marked in red.

"The closest Lazarus pit." He followed her reasoning. "It would be in character for Ra's to personally protect his birthplace, and severe injuries are likely."

"There have been no major treats and no unexpected trips to other pits since. That was three years ago." Shayera pointed out. "The league has only been involved in low profile sabotage."

"**Two years till the next dive.**" The bat started closing files. "**The apocalypse threat is a ruse for a mild attack.**" He rose from the terminal. "**Call me when Q makes contact.**"

Stepping out into the hallway, the he tapped the earpiece. "**Superman, Wonder Woman, I know what he's up to.**"

Minutes later all three were in the conference room.

"Figured something out?" Clark inquired anxiously the moment Wayne stepped inside.

His friend pulled the cowl off, simultaneously smoothing the hair back in place. "Ra's wont kill off humanity." He stated without much relief.

"And the bad news?" Diana tipped her head sideways.

Bruce propped fists-first on the table. "He will kill most of it."

Clark sighed, scratching his nape. "Scenarios?"

"Several." Bruce picked up a remote from its slot and aimed at the window.

It turned opaque white before a void world map projection appeared on it, only outlining continents.

"His goal is to deal maximal damage to humanity while minimizing damage to the biosphere."

A Color-coded population-density map appeared. Sparsely populated deep inland was green. India, China, Indo-china, Japan and Nile valley being stark red, along with numerous hot-spots in Europe and North America. Varied hues of yellow ran along every shoreline.

"Borders between habitats have the biggest species variety and biomass, best example being the border between land and shore. Nuclear detonations on lifeless seabed would trigger tsunamis. Heavy water atoms dispersed through the ocean would absorb fallout radiation. There will be no ecological damage, but an estimated one billion people would die, another two being displaced. This kind of attack would be economically and technologically crippling, but humanity would reclaim the shores even if nature is given a head start. We did it once already."

Clark crossed his arms. "Go on."

"Plate tectonics would be more lethal." Bruce clicked again.

A map of tectonic activity appeared over the population chart, the two overlapping on a number of places: Ganges valley, Pacific fire ring, Great Rift Valley and the Mediterranean being the most striking ones.

"Well placed water injections into magma hot-spots would trigger the release of accumulated energy. Estimating a simultaneous attack and an average 7 points on Richter scale throughout, these areas will be brought to sustainable levels." He clicked again.

Most reds shifted to yellows.

"Good God…" Clark whispered.

"Fifty percent of humanity whipped out, again, no long term effects." Bruce continued the emotionless lecture.

Diana walked over to the large screen. "These are all extremely difficult tactics."

"We are talking of a fifth oldest person in the world." Bruce stared her down. "He has all the resources and connections needed to pull off anything he devises. And the patience for perfect timing."

"Any more tactics?" Clark tipped his chin at the map.

"Pandemic." Bruce replied simply. "No idea which type."

"Why do I have the feeling you're keeping the worst for last." Clark glanced his way.

Bruce locked eyes with his friend. "All three at once."

"Hera help us…"

**…**


	9. Prelude to Panic

**Prelude to Panic **

_**Monday, September 21st, 16:15**_

Bruce carried a plate of salmon risotto between nigh empty tables of the mess hall, to where Diana enjoyed her pasta Bolognese. He sat beside her, elbow to elbow, and the two ate without talking, enjoying each others quiet company. Bruce noticed and observed that all subsequent leaguers coming into the mess hall sat at tables around them until they were filled to capacity.

Usually people steered clear of the Bat, but lately they were keeping a not so subtle eye on him, despite his foreboding reputation. Wayne assumed Jonn had subtly influenced their colleagues to show him a hint of care, but not too overtly. He couldn't help but admire the carefully calculated response.

Not long into the meal, Stewart and Shayera dropped by. Taking a hint from the Amazon, they two decided against attempting small-talk. The next visitor however was a different story altogether. Always drawn by a crowd, Wally dragged himself over and pulled up a chair. Sitting astride, he slumped his arms over the chair back.

Wayne's brow shot up. "**Where's your tray?**"

"Not hungry." The younger hero shrugged.

"**U-huh.**" Bruce was less than satisfied. "**When did you last eat?**"

"Breakfast."

Four people looked at each other in expressions ranging from concern to panic.

Wally sat up straight, face all innocent. "What?"

"You_are_ slow." Shayera flew over the table, grabbed him by the shoulders and headed out. Racing through the halls, she stormed the medical bay, dropping a fidgeting Wally on the exam bed.

"Lethargy and loss of appetite." She told Mr. Terrific.

"**Severe.**" Wayne corrected upon entry, Diana and Stewart hovering at his sides.

Walking over, T inspected Wally's appearance. The younger man was a tad pale, and his lithe form looked almost skinny. "IV and bed rest for symptoms, blood work for diagnosis." He picked up a sterile kit.

"Hate needles." The speedster muttered as the other man cleaned his forearm.

"This will be quick." He spoke in a reassuring tone.

"Not for me it wo- Hey!"

Terrific pulled the needle out. "Done." He walked over to the lab area and fed the sample into an analyzer. Moments after came the readout. "Hmm… "

"Hmm what?" Stewart was edgy.

"Common cold as Jonn already diagnosed, but his white blood cell count is not elevated." Terrific added. "Probably a delayed response."

"Told you it was nothing." Wally pouted like a ten year old.

Shayera grinned at Lantern. "Well he is slow."

Wally crossed his arms. "Ha. Ha."

Bruce released an exasperated sigh _This is ridiculous._ He turned to the door. "**Call me if there's a change.**"

"Where are you going?" Shayera didn't want her detective partner gone in the middle of the investigation.

"**Pay Waller a visit.**" He spoke as the door shut behind him.

_**17:55**_

"**They're already part of UN's peacekeepers in Khundustan.**" The bat argued. "**One contingent will be enough.**"

Waller stared up at him defiantly. "**Delta force or no backup.**"

"**Napoleon said a million of them could take over the world.**" He pulled an ace out of his sleve.

"Why haven't they?" A commander cut in from the corner, gray hair stark against his ark complexion.

"**In his time there were only a million of them in total, women and children included.**" The Bat explained. "**Even now all adult males would barely make up that much. And they have a truism: stolen - damned.**"

"I'm not leaving the World's fate in the hands of some third class Balkan militia." Waller slammed her fist into the table.

Wayne fought back a frustrated groan. "**No force that went on conquest of Europe could seize them. Barbarians, Turks, Nazis, … they all hit a dead end there.**" He leaned over, towering above her. "**You want someone to stop Ra's, you'll give me five minutes with Horvat - in private, secure line, no bugs.**"

Waller's eyes turned to studious slits. "You know him personally, don't you?"

The bat pulled back, taking a moment to consider his answer. "**Yes.**"

"**All right.**" She muttered, sending a glance in Daniels' way. "**Contact the UN forces, Croatian division.**"

Static gave way to a middle aged uniformed Caucasian. "General Daniels." He nodded in greeting. "How can we help you?"

"Someone wants a word with you." The older commander replied before leaving the room with Waller.

Horvat looked the room over. "Anyone there?"

Wayne stepped out of the shadow fully masked but spoke in his natural tone. "Zdravo Zenga." (Hi Zenga.) He greeted.

Horvat frowned, rummaging his memory for that voice. Suddenly he stood slack-jawed. "Brutus? Ti si - Isuse..." (Brutus? You're the- Oh, Jesus…)

Wayne smirked. "Učio sam od najboljih". (I studied under the best.)

Horvat smirked in amusment for a moment, but soon turned serious. "Opet dolaze vanzemaljci?" (More aliens coming?)

The bat shook his head and plugged a chip into the terminal, beginning upload. "Terorist."

Horvat chuckled. "E, i?. Ovdje ih imamo svakodnevno." (So? We've got them here daily.)

Wayne shook his head. "Ovaj je gadan poput Darksidea." (This one's as bad as Darkside.)

The captain sucked in a hard breath. "Što ću s ovim…Demonovom Glavom'." (What should I do with this…Demon Head?) He looked down on the files recieved.

"Nađi glavni bazu, Prati ih, ali ne napadaj dok ne dođem." (Find his main base, follow them but don't attack until I arrive.)

"Kao čovjek ili zvjer?" (As a man or beast?) Horvat asked seriously.

"Kao duh." (As a ghost.) Wayne replied and hung up without warning.

Once alone in the room, an alien calm slipped into his mind. _"Wally's fever reached critical."_

**…**


	10. So it Begins

**So it Begins**

_**Monday, September 21st, 18:10**_

Elevator doors hissed open on the medical level of MetroTower. A concerned Wayne strode just short of breaking into a jog, quickly leveling off with Diana. The two soon reached Stewart and Shayera who stared concerned through the glass wall of the infirmary. Wayne looked in, finding Wally bedridden and buried in ice packs. The speedster's mumbling was muted by the distance and thick glass, glazed eyes distant.

"How is he?" Diana held onto her forearms.

"Hundred twenty-five." Stewart huffed uneasily. "Seven points higher than even _his_ normal temperature."

Bruce clenched his teeth._ His brain is going to melt._

"T's done everything to cool him but it's just getting worse." Stewart's voice rose in volume with the growing frustration of uselessness.

"**Cold response.**" Wayne muttered in a whisper and barged inside frowning before they could question the statement's meaning. "**Where's the hypothermia kit?**"

"Last door down, second from the right." Terrific pointed at a huge closet, confusion obvious in his features. "What do you need _that_ for?"

Ignoring the question, Wayne took out a large cardboard box, 'internal heating' scribbled in bold handwriting on its top. He removed the casing off a strange looking device; a kind of heater with gold-wrapped tubes attached.

"What are you doing?"

"**Reversing the heat pump.**" Wayne unscrewed the heating coils, and hauled the open device over.

Terrific's expression turned into one of realization. "Cool him from the inside." He cleaned a thigh vein, than cautiously led a gold-wrapped tube into a freshly made canula.

Almost immediately the temperature dropped by point one degree, than another, and another. The two exchanged easy nods, prompting relieved sighs from the growing audience. On the way out, Wayne near startled at a beep of a printer.

"That should be his blood works." Terrific chimed from across the room.

Wayne read the chart before grabbing a couple of older reports from the lab table. He looked the papers over, shuffling back and forth between them. "Quarantine him. His white blood aren't just low, they're dropping - fast."

Locking eyes with Stewart, Terriffic gestured the founder in. "Help us move him to the Clean Room."

A nod later, Stewart engulfed Wally; bed, cooler and all; in green light. Terrific guided him along as the crowd parted out of their way. Wayne joined an impressed Diana at the front of the observers.

"**I operated on the machine, not Flash.**" He replied to her eyeing.

Clark pushed through the crowd. "He ok?"

"**Been better.**"

The speaker system beeped its broadcast warning. "Leaguers with meta strength report to transport level for immediate dispatch." Jonn spoke loud and clear.

Reflexively, Clark looked up at the source of the sound. "What's going on?"

"Several minor quakes struck along the Nepal-India border."

"**Define minor.**"

"Initial quake was 5.6, mildest aftershock 4.9."

"Faulty execution?" Diana guessed, her theory leaving an uninformed Jonn confused.

"**Let's hope so.**" He replied stoically. "**Make a stop at Kasnia. Tell Audrey we need all available phage samples and notes on their replication. Immediately.**"

"What are those?" She was curious.

"**Bacteria-killing viruses. Harmless to humans.**"

Clark crossed his arms. "I thought Flash had a viral infection."

"By the time the phages arrive he'll have bacterial too."

A serious nod later, the two metas flew off, Terrific walking up to Wayne not a moment after. "Have to arrange teams." His expression an unspoken request.

"**I'll do the tests.**" The dark knight replied, heading for the buffer section of the clean room. Putting on a minimal containment suit he watched Wally's unconscious form. "**Let's see what's bugging your finest, kid.**"

_**Tuesday, September 22nd, 00:05**_

The speedster laid withered, all kinds of tubes and wires sticking in and out of him. Behind the glass wall separating the patient and observer sides, an unmasked Wayne sat behind his laptop, studying Q's reports on Ra's and forwarding them to Horvat. A light rap drew his attention form the screen. Swiveling around in the chair, he caught sight of a tired Stewart. Pressurized doors hissed open upon his approach.

"**That bad, ha.**" He commented on the other man's appearance.

Stewart snickered weakly. "Not really. Lots of wreckage and injuries but less fatalities than expected."

"**Came to check up on Flash?**"

"I caught something on the mission." Stewart rubbed his abs tenderly while following the bat into a neighboring room. "The quake made a cesspool out of that place. What's the news on the quakes anyway?" He hopped on the exam bed.

"**Stronger and more frequent by the hour.**" Wayne shot his hopes, going through the motions of a routine checkup. "**Latest one struck home. 6.3 in California.**"

"Damn…" Stewart muttered, than winced as the Bat poked his belly.

"**Stomach flu.**" The dark knight diagnosed. "**I suggest you call it a day.**"

"I suggest you do the same." Lantern reminded that none of them would be sleeping soon. "How is the kid." He glanced in the direction of Wally's current bedroom.

"**Same.**" Wayne sighed. "**We've ruled out everything that could have killed his immunity. According to the tests, Wally's supposed to be healthy.**" He grated.

"Supposed to be... What do we do with the quakes, were running out of people."

"**So far the stronger ones strike the developed rather than developing nations - probably to compensate for building safety codes. Since they're getting worse, it would be best if you, Superman and Skeets leave the current disasters. Screen Mediteranean, Japan, and West Coast North America for the charges that haven yet gone off.**"

"Will do, Bats." He jumped of the table, stopping by the rest room on his way back to the frontlines.

Alone once more, Batman returned to his vigil. Some half hour later, a rustle of fabric caught his attention. He gladly approached the dazed but conscious speedster.

"Thirsty." Wally whispered in a raspy voice.

Wayne reached for a thermos bottle, pouring a cup of clear maroon liquid, a cloud of steam rose from it as a fruity aroma filled the room. "**Sugar with tea.**" He offered, coaxing a chuckle from the younger leaguer.

The expression faded all too soon, giving way to one of disgust. Wally stared at the cup intently, as if weighing life and death. "Water." His eyes pleaded.

"**Nauseous.**" Wayne stated with certainty and wordlessly obliged, even helping Wally drink.

"Never imagined you for Florence Nightingale." The Flash jested, receiving a glare for his trouble. "Thanks."

Batman ignored the gesture of gratitude, but remained at Wally's side.

**…**


	11. Crescendo

**Crescendo**

_**Tuesday, September 22nd, 08:20**_

On the fly between Alaska and the Alps, Clark dropped by the MetroTower to see Flash, only to run into a conversation he could not follow.

"**Coli.**" Wayne spat out.

The other two men standing in the lab breathed out resigned.

"Antibiotics?" Terrific offered.

"Liver and kidneys." Jonn was grave.

"Dialysis." He countered.

"**Lazarine.**" Wayne added.

"Tumors." Jonn warned.

"Surgery?" Terrific was grasping for straws.

"**Without immunity?**" Wayne looked at him as if he were a moron.

"Phages?" Jonn suggested.

"Initial infection." Terific reminded. "Antivirals." He elaborated.

Jonn looked defeated. "We're stuck in a loop."

"**Time to deal with the elephant in the room. Jonn?**"

"I have eavesdropped on the human autonomous system during captivity, you?"

"**Self taught – developed****antidotes for Smilex and fear gas.**" Wayne stood rod-straight.

"That doesn't give either of you knowledge on germs." Teriffic criticized.

"**Two doctors and a medic in the family. You know better?**"

"A formal degree better – Took remote classes during monitor duty."

Wordlessly they conceded.

"We take him of antivirals and on both kinds of pre-emptive dialysis. Pump him full of antibiotics and phages - kill off all the bacteria, good, bad and neutral. Once he's a clean slate we inoculate him with the good ones again. If there's organ damage we give him a target shot of lazarine, restart the antivirals and keep our fingers cros-."

Jonn froze. "I've lost Lantern."

Teriffic frowned. "What do you mean lost... Wait." Reaching for his ear he listened to a frantic voice on the other end. He broke into a sprint, tailed by the other two. "Booster's flying him in, said he just fell out of the sky in mid flight."

They arrived at the medical level in time to see Shayera gently deliver Stewart into a cell next to Wally's. Clark was already there, having passed them in a flying blur of purple. The three resident healers bustled around under their colleagues' anxious watch. In minutes, the main screen revealed the answer.

"Same freak cold." Teriffic looked between Wally and Stewart, tended by Shayera. "Must have caught it on a joint mission, but in Flash it developed earlier due to faster metabolism."

"Why did he faint?" Shayera asked from Stewart's side, never taking her eyes off him.

"Dehydrated because of the stomach flu."

"Thick headed soldier wouldn't stop for a drink..." Scolding and worry blended seamlessly in her voice.

Wayne squinted, cogs working. "**Flash, which leaguers have you spoken to yesterday.**"

"All of them?"The speedster replied sheepishly.

Batman raced into the adjoining lab, all but Shayera hot on his heels. He shuffled the drawers for a needle. "**Blood works for all non-meta human leaguers.**" He proceeded to take a sample of his own.

"You think its spreading?" Worry was obvious even in Jonn's alien features.

"**Better safe than sorry.**" He handed a vial of dark red fluid.

"I'll arrange a schedule." Teriffic spoke as he and the manhunter went their separate ways.

Clark approached Wayne. "Do we tell Waller?"

The dark knight remained expresionless. "**No point in raising panic until we've got something to tell.**" He watched Clark return to their ill coleagues.

Remaining behind, Wayne reached for his communicator. "Get some rest before you start sleeping on the job." He spoke in a soft voice.

"No time." Diana almost yawned her reply.

"Stewart just fainted in mid flight for not drinking. You've been up 26 hours, last 14 of which you were intensely active physically."

"Afraid I'll break your record?" She teased.

Silence alone told how laughable that idea was.

"You're worried." This time there was no levity.

He swallowed. "Yes."

"I'll be right back."

"Thank you." Wayne finished the call.

Returning to quarantine he was welcomed by looks of sad sympathy from everyone present. As the realization set in, it started a n avalanche of a thought process in his mind. "**Call off all teams.**" He barked.

Confused faces stared his way.

"Why?" Clark risked asking.

"**We've taken the infection the wrong way around.** **It wasn't didn't brought into the tower, it's spreading from here.**"

Blank faces anticipated explanation.

"**You said it yourself**."He turned to Terrific. "**A freak cold - a hybrid. Ra's wasn't in Africa to sabotage oil rigs, that was just a diversion, he was in it for virus samples. Africa is an AIDS disaster zone.**"

"We've already ruled it out."

"**The standard one - yes, this is something new.**"

Terrific shook his head in dismissal. "That's stretching it."

"**You know standard germs, but I dealt with new diseases. What are the symptoms of an immunity repressing illness?**"

"None. Patients present with whatever opportunistic infection strikes first."

"**What if it's airborne?**"

"Lots of people simultaneously showing unrelated symptoms. It would be like several minor outbreaks of various treatable diseases. It would take fatalities to alert… you mean-"

"**Yes. What if there are dozens of such outbreaks scattered worldwide?**"

"Pandemonium. Where?"

"Where would it be easiest to hide a several minor outbreaks? Where would they be expected?"

"Anywhere with poor living conditions – lack of food or dirty water or overcrowded-" Terrific froze with an expression of sheer shocked disbelief.

Jonn phased through the floor to do as Batman requested before Terrific could utter. "…disaster areas."

"Bats?" Wally called out. "He used us as WMDs?"

"**He tried.****No one else reported malaise. We better hope this thing isn't infectious until its symptomatic, otherwise…**"

"You sure it's airborne?"

"It looks like cold because it spreads like cold - same adaptation to aerial environment." Terrific validated Wayne's assumption. "Even it isn't, better to assume the worst."

"How did it get in here?" Clark was bordering on angry.

"**An infected zealot with a mask a stolen janitor ID and uniform would easily slip by bio sensors." **Wayne spoke calmly as if the thought of Ra's busting his security didn't bother him at all.** "All he had to do is walk up to Flash and say 'Good Morning.'**"

Clark leaned heavily against the lab table. "Superman to all leaguers, return to the tower immediately."


	12. Full Circle

**Full Circle**

_**Tuesday, September 22nd, 10:55**_

Dick ambled in the half dark of the cave, large towel draped over bare shoulders, as the incoming call blinked its quiet beckoning. Cape and cowl filled the large screen as expected.

"You skipped patrol." The younger vigilante spoke first, his tone conveying a lot of things, but more than anything a request to be brought up to date.

"Close call with Flash. A cold went haywire in his metabolism." Wayne skewed the truth expertly, years of pretense serving him well.

Despite knowing there was a tone more beside the false alarm, Dick chose to address it another time. "Fearing the Lords?" He opted for an issue already resolved.

The stern face showed no change. "Among other things." Wayne omitted again. "How's Gotham?"

"I've got it covered." Dick reassured. "Take your time with the league." He spoke with care, conveying his assumptions of Wayne's reasons for absence and approval of said absence.

"Don't get too free around the manor." Wayne made a detour form the stoic persona, which only proved Dick's concerns justified.

Miles up north, in downtown Metropolis, the older vigilante fell back into the tall seat; staring at the void monitor as ventilation hummed the time away. Stiletto shoes clicked their slow approach, filling him in on Diana's exhaustion.

"You need to tell him." She paused behind him, long arms sneaking around broad shoulders.

"Told him all I know for certain." He replied curtly, obviously deluding himself.

She pulled back a bit. "That the majority of the league is sick?"

"Infected." Wayne returned, tone a notch more intense. "There's a difference. Only Wally is sick for now."

"And John?" She pushed just enough.

A tired, protesting grunt escaped, begging not to have this discussion, not now. "Exhaustion, dehydration and stomach flu. He'll be fine."

"Bruce-"

Wayne spun around and out of her arms. "You want me to play devil's advocate? Fine!" He shot up from the chair and in her face. "He's sick! This thing spreads too fast! We'll never make a cure in time. In a week there will be no league. In a month, cities will shut down because everyone will be bed ridden - no water, food, power, no nothing. In a year what little is left of humanity will riot its way back to feudalism! We'll be dead and everything we lived for will go down the drain! HAPPY!"

Too shocked for words, Diana stared wide-eyed and breathless. "I-"

"Forget it." He sighed, stomping out of their quarters passive-aggressively, quietly fuming inside. A large man's shadow fell over him.

"Bat-"

"**What!?**" He snarled at the man of steel.

A maintenance crewman skidded past the two heroes, panic quenching curiosity.

"It's Zatana." Clark sighed, regret all over his face.

Wayne's shoulders slouched, eyes affixed on the gray carpet. "**Hit me.**"

"Fever, fatigue, lethargy…"

Wayne knew where this was going. "**Flu?**"

Seconds trickled by. The lack of response was enough to let loose the rage building inside him.

BLAM! Paint and mortar splintered from the wall, his knuckles buried an inch deep.

"Influenza." He muttered, nursing the sore hand. "She has the flu despite mandatory vaccination." He explained. And just as he did, something eased the worry lines. "How close is your physiology to ours?"

"Don't know." Clark shrugged. "What do you have in mind?"

"Vaccines are made passing a specie's pathogens through the system of a similar one." Wayne broke into a stride for the elevator, Clark at his side. "You and Shayera have been exposed. If you're similar enough you're infected too, but because this isn't made to attack you, you wouldn't succumb to it, you'd make antibodies to fight it." They walked in.

When the doors closed with a clang and left them in private, Wayne gave words to their last hope. "Your blood would cure this."

"I hope to God I'm sick." Clark whispered cautiously.

Wayne shook his head. "Trust me, you don't."

_**20:20**_

"90 members are positive for antigens." Wayne spoke to Waller's image, standing propped against the terminal desk, glad the cowl hid his exhausted features. He did not bother with masking his voice before her. "So far it's latent. The tower is under self-imposed quarantine."

She took note of his sunken posture, "I've told the governments the leaguers left because you believe the crisis is over and the missions successful. As far as the general public is concerned, Ra's plan is thwarted."

He nodded. "How long since the last quake?"

"Over eight hours." Amanda's gaze faltered momentarily, uneasy with what she was about to do. "Have you considered your options?"

Batman cracked a small, tragic smile. "We'll keep working on a cure. Nothing beats a vaccine but it's a little late for that. I've ordered stasis pods from WayneTech for worst case scenarios. It might buy Jonn time to figure out a cure…" He didn't speak of the slim chances.

"Contact Dr Hamilton, I'll make sure the government agencies assists you, secret ones included." She offered another unexpected gesture.

"Why the sudden care?"

"Call it insurance." Amanda crubbed any hint of care out of her delivery.

Wayne was not insulted. "All right. We'll brief you in an hour."

"You mean you will." She cut the link off.

"_The results are back." _Previously absent knowledge appeared at Wayne's disposal. _"They don't carry a cure. We can still use Clark to develop a vaccine. It might be too late for us but the rest of the world would be out of danger."_

_But we can't use_ _Shayera. _Wayne sighed. _Not in her condition._

The undertone turned surprised. _"You've picked up on the rhythm too?"_

_That big oscillations between sensitive and pissed are hard not to._

"_And the pissed-off mood vanished." _Jonn conveyed amusement and later confirmation. _"She is."_

_I'll tell her. _Wayne decided, and could almost feel the Martian nod.

_**21:00**_

Batman found Hawkgirl in John's quarantine cell. Wondering how to approach them, he missed a slow, steady fall in the speedster's vitals. The repetitive _beep-beep-beep_ of monitors warned of impending danger as a minimal pulse and blood pressure thresholds were crossed.

Three heads snapped to attention on the young man's still form.

"Wally?" Stewart was tense.

T raced in just as Jonn materialized though a bulkhead.

"Epi!" T shouted, hand outstretched and ready.

Holl snatched the largest syringe and plunged it deep into Wally's chest, under the ribcage up to his heart. A staggering amount of fluid emptied into his body before Jonn could wrestle her away.

The flash arched in a gasping spasm. Shuddered breath and quivers grew to what looked like a full blown seizure, the heart monitor going insanely fast till it flatlined with a wailing keen. Jerking turned to vibrations, blurring Wally's form.

Half a dozen hands reached for him a split second too late. The Flash vanished into thin air.

"Shayera...?" John stared at her baffled and disappointed.

The founders watched speechless as she stormed out of the room, eyes bright with first tears. Batman, observing the whole thing from the far corner, followed her out.

_**21:05**_

Elevator doors rumbled open at the center of the observation deck. The large glass dome opened up to star-scattered sky blending with city lights below. Even for one as hard as the dark knight the view was near spiritual in its breathtaking beauty.

Seated on the ground off to his left was Shayera, staring into space. "How did you know?" she whispered.

"Most people would take the chapel." Wayne walked up silently, cowl off. "Not us." He looked down at Shayera, her arms wrapped around legs and chin on knees.

Seating himself beside her, elbows on knees and hands hanging limp before him, Wayne looked at her with non-judgmental patience.

"I pulled him back by force." Shayera whispered without facing him. "After he destroyed Braniac." She explained. "He kept giving me this weird 'I forgive you' look for weeks. He wanted to stay there."

Wayne looked forward also, his own mind playing images similar to hers. "I know."

"He told you?" She turned to him.

"Couldn't tell anyone else, feared he'd end up ungrateful, uncaring. Figured I wouldn't be chatting about it any time soon."

Her eyes widened a little. "Smarter than he lead us to believe."

Wayne grinned a little. "Used to be a forensic."

"Wally?" She shot him a surprised look.

"Hard to believe." He stared at dull gray carpet.

Shayera blinked, her surprise fading. "Actually, not so hard."

He looked at her intently. "You did right. Better that he's out there than gone. We won't be seeing him any time soon anyway." It was the biggest understatement she ever heard.

In a sleight of hand he pulled a paper out of one glove. "Here."

Unfolding the document, Shayera scanned through it, pausing mid way through. A long silence stretched. "Will it be all right?"

"Your body will protect it from the virus." He reassured. "And the disease will burn away quickly, all the dangerous ones do. When it arrives, there will be no danger."

Shayera bit her lip. "Do your names have meanings?"

"King." He replied. "It's Latin for king."

"John told me his role model was called King. Said that was the reason he was chosen for a lantern."

Wayne had a good guess as to who the man in question was. "I'm not surprised."

"Would you mind…?"

Wayne stood up without a sound of protest, his hand squeezing her shoulder in a gesture of comfort before he made his way out.


End file.
